


Hooked on a feeling

by Kalee60



Series: Kalee's Stucky Christmas One-Shots [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Christmas, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Implied Bottom Bucky, M/M, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, POV Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28286124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: Steve Rogers was in trouble. And not the kind that could land him in jail, or even earn him a fine or a sternly worded letter. This trouble started with a capital B and happened to be his roommate of three years.He'd not intended to fall in love with Bucky, not at all - but he did, and now it was Christmas and he was starting to realise if he didn't say something soon, then he'd never find the courage to speak up.But coming up with, and executing the perfect plan was far from easy, and on top of that - was Bucky even interested in him?Steve finds himself with no choice but to put his harebrained scheme into motion and hope for the best.It was Christmas after all, and wasn't that the most wonderful time of the year?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Kalee's Stucky Christmas One-Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570972
Comments: 67
Kudos: 306





	Hooked on a feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/gifts), [NoStringsOnMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoStringsOnMe/gifts).



> Hi all - so it's Christmas Eve here in Australia and my gorgeous friends Bec and Ali and I decided to work on a little Christmas fic each, using the prompt 'mistletoe' to share with everyone for Christmas.
> 
> So here is my offering to the club and I hope you all enjoy just a little bit of silliness involving our two favourite boys! 
> 
> Go check out my gorgeous support writers [ darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue) and [ NoStringsOnMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoStringsOnMe/pseuds/NoStringsOnMe) if you haven't already! 
> 
> Thanks for the inspiration to start writing again!
> 
> Also, just a note to say this is not part of my AU series ;) just a bonus one for you all!

Steve looked up from the cartoon he was watching, spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth as Bucky stumbled from his bedroom wrapped in nothing but low slung boxer briefs and a frown. Completely oblivious to the hungry eyes devouring his every movement, Bucky scratched his stomach before dipping a hand into his briefs to adjust himself, at which point Steve about combusted on the sofa. How did his roommate not understand that every little thing he did set Steve off? He’d had more cold showers and sneaky jerk off sessions as a thirty year old than at fifteen. It was downright indecent. Plus there was a patch on the wall of the shower where he swore his come was stripping the tiles of their gaudy green colour.

“Hmmpy, ffe.” The deep rasp came from the kitchen and Steve took a breath, Bucky’s morning rumbles were not pure sin, _okay_ , they were, but he wasn’t supposed to think that.

“Pal, want to try that again, but in English?”

“Coffee…”

“Yeah I made extra in the pot, it’s all yours.”

Bucky’s head poked out from the kitchen, the warmth in his expression heating Steve up inside, and he tried to act like the softness around Bucky’s eyes that Steve had done something nice for him, didn’t affect him. It did. Terribly.

Steve turned back to the TV and managed to finish his cereal with no further incident, and when something warm was pressed to his shoulder, he looked up at Bucky who was holding two mugs, offering the second one to Steve. And even though he’d already had two coffees, he took the mug, fingers gently brushing against Bucky’s who came and flopped next to him, thigh pressed tight against Steve and he gritted his teeth.

He had to do something about the attraction he felt for his roommate, it wasn’t right, he shouldn’t be crushing hard until it was a daily distraction. Hourly distraction. Constant distraction. Especially when Bucky didn’t show the same kind of dopey enamourment that he did.

He never caught Bucky staring at him longingly, had never found a piece of scrap paper with their names drawn in hearts all over it, and the few times they’d caught each other in _compromising_ positions, Steve seemed to be the only flustered party (who then had to jerk off twelve times in an hour because he was a sick bastard who couldn’t stop thinking about miles of golden skin and an ass he wanted to eat for hours).

“Christmas?” Bucky asked after taking a long sip.

Steve raised a brow and looked over at him, realising how small the sofa was as Bucky’s lips were wet from the drink and he could see the glisten clear as day. He tried to surreptitiously move away, but the arm of the sofa stopped him, it seemed a three seater only sat two 6ft plus men on it comfortably. And by comfortably he meant pressed up against each other until the only space between them was dust particles and atoms.

“Yes, Christmas.” Steve responded, having no idea what Bucky was asking.

The huff of laughter and the way Bucky pressed his shoulder tighter against him did impossible things to Steve’s stomach, it shouldn’t be able to flip and flop in so many directions all at once. 

“I’m heading to Becca’s in the afternoon, have you got plans?”

“Oh, no, just going to hang here, do some drawing maybe, catch up on some commissions that people have asked for.”

“Come with.”

“What?” Steve startled. Was Bucky asking him to a family gathering for Christmas? It shouldn’t have made him well up in gratitude that Bucky thought of Steve and his lack of family ties.

“Yeah, we can exchange gifts in the morning then head on over after lunch - I’ll cook us up a pot roast. Can’t have you alone on Christmas day, Stevie.”

Steve sat back out of Bucky’s peripheral, trying to keep his breathing and emotions under control, he was being a big sap, this he knew, but when Bucky called him Stevie - it _did_ things to him. He knew they were more than roommates, were good friends in fact and had been living together for about three years now, but still this was the first year Bucky had asked him to a holiday function, and Becca, whose company he loved too, would have no issues with Steve tagging along. 

But the thing was, Steve had known for quite some time that he wanted more from Bucky than just being his pal, and he wasn’t sure spending a full Christmas day with him would dampen those desires.

“Oh, well, umm…”

“Just say yes, you Punk.”

“Jerk. Okay, yes.”

“Perfect,” Bucky got up as he drained his mug, ass clad in only thin briefs right at Steve’s eye line, and Steve couldn’t help his gaze lingering on the curves through the threadbare fabric, couldn’t help licking his lips, wanting desperately to lean forward and bite the soft flesh before him. Mark Bucky up, claim him, then slide his -

“Steve?” Bucky’s fingers snapped once before his face and he felt heat and shame flood his body at being caught so blatantly checking out his roommate's ass.

“Sorry, I spaced.” He lied.

Bucky hummed, a contemplative look in his eye and Steve averted his gaze to look back at the TV, hoping that a twilight zone moment would happen and suck him out of the room into another dimension.

“Looking forward to seeing what crazy gift you come up with this year, not sure you can top the rubber chicken who farts out the National Anthem.” Bucky laughed and all but sashayed out the room, Steve’s eyes following Bucky’s hips in a blaze of lust and desire. _Fuck_ \- he was in trouble, all he wanted to give Bucky for Christmas was the dicking down of his life, then to date the hell out of him until they were old and spindly.

But how after three years of living together with no hint of romance other than teasing remarks and half sleepy snuggles on the couch in winter, was he going to ask if Bucky wanted more? He had to come up with a foolproof plan, that’s what.

  
  


Two days and too many internet searches later, Steve had an idea. It wasn’t perfect, it was actually the lamest thing he could do that potentially could leave himself open for a world of embarrassment and self-inflicted pain, but it was a start.

He had five days until Christmas, to steel his nerves and man up, ask for what he wanted and then hopefully be given permission to take it. Again and again.

Sitting next to the window at the small table, one that Bucky insisted they grab off the side of the street because they were adults and adults had a dining table (they could _almost_ manage to put two dinner plates on it without them clanging) Steve pulled out the first part of his plan from the hardware bag before him.

“Do you think we should get an actual tree?” Bucky's voice startled Steve and he thrust the small package back in the plastic bag with an obvious rustle. Bucky eyed it speculatively. Steve ignored his questioning gaze and looked outside at the snow falling, trying to pretend he saw something interesting outside. There was lots of snow - that was about it.

“We have one. Why would we need another?” He finally answered, the bag making another crunch as he accidently put his elbow on it.

They both looked over to the wall at the huge crack that ran from ceiling to skirting board; it happened to have smaller spiderweb cracks running off it, forming an almost perfect tree shape, so each year they stuck baubles and tinsel on the plaster. It wasn’t like they could do any more damage. They were ignoring the fact the tree was getting bigger every year. The Super also ignoring it.

“Fair.” Bucky shrugged, “Whacha got?”

“What?” Steve asked.

“In the bag, Jerk.”

“Lube.” Steve shot back and at Bucky’s smirk, Steve knew he may as well get it over with. “Just going to put something up for Christmas, that’s all.”

“Oh really, cool - what?” Bucky strode over and sat on the other chair, their knees knocking under the dining table, Steve surprised when Bucky didn’t move away, so he pressed against Bucky a little harder, enjoying the touch. He was so distracted he didn’t see Bucky grab the bag until the plastic made a telltale crinkling noise.

“It’s just a little thing I’m working on, all will be revealed soon,” Steve hedged, nervous, not that anything in the bag would give his plan away.

“Steve, there's a hook in here, actually you got a twenty pack - what the fuck are you doing that requires twenty hooks.”

Steve flushed red as Bucky’s knee slipped in between his thighs and pressed forward as he leant over the table scrounging in the bag for more items. Bucky had no idea what he was doing to Steve’s equilibrium, it was shot, he was about to keel out of his chair at only the slightest touch. _Yeah,_ he really needed to take his shot and when… _if_ , Bucky said he wasn't interested, then at least he’d know. Be able to move out of the apartment and go hibernate like a bear for six months and forget he ever had a painfully obvious crush on a man so out of his league he couldn’t even pronounce the sport.

“I’m using _one,_ smart ass,” Steve said and stood up, moving the wooden chair to a spot just before their makeshift wall-tree and proceeded to reach up with both hands to screw a hook into the roof. _Christ_ he hoped his plan was going to work. “They only sell them in large pack sizes, of course.”

He glanced over at Bucky as he worked the metal screw into the roof, seeing that Bucky was now sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, watching. Steve expected to see him smirking, ready to tease and ask a million questions, but he wasn’t. Bucky’s eyes were trained low, and it took Steve’s brain too long to realise that he was staring directly at Steve’s crotch, where his thin basketball shorts, sans underwear (washing day was still two days away) was clearly outlining his dick, jiggling with every twist his wrists made.

Not sure what to do, or what it meant, or if Bucky was even looking directly there, Steve gave the smallest jerk of his hips, watching as Bucky’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and a light dusting of pink sheen his cheeks. Steve's chest exploded in butterflies and he couldn’t help but feel powerful, like he had something over Bucky. Steve knew he wasn’t a shrinking violet, knew that he packed quite the wallop in his pants, had even had complaints it was too big to fit into some rather tight spaces. But never had Bucky been caught staring as he was now.

Suddenly Bucky’s attention jerked to Steve’s face, their eyes meeting and the colour drained from Bucky’s skin, clearly realising he’d been caught staring at his roommates junk.

“So what are you hung, I mean going to hang from it?” Bucky asked, voice cracking on the word hung.

Steve jumped off the chair and looked up at his handwork, excitement buzzing through his veins at the possibility that his plan might actually have a chance. Though he was trying not to get carried away, not yet. 

“Might be for the model plane I got you for Christmas. It can fly in circles above us.” Steve said simply.

“You did _not_ get me a plane, don’t be a dick, what’s it really for?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed when Steve shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and placed the chair back at the table.

“I’m going downstairs to shovel the snow off the stoop so Mr Lee doesn’t fall over and break a hip like he almost did last week. Try and work it out while I’m gone - if you can.”

Steve left Bucky sitting at the table as he grabbed his gear, and once he was all rugged up against the elements, he left his roommate staring up at the hook with a frown, and Steve knew, even if it all backfired, it was worth it all just to see the frustration and intrigue on Bucky’s face.

  
  
  


“You’re putting up a dreamcatcher.”

“Excuse me?” Steve asked and looked over the sketchpad he had open, as he tried and failed to get one of Medusa’s snakes to look as reptilian as it should. Maybe he should draw googly eyes on it.

“You’re always asleep on the couch in here, so it makes sense.” Bucky looked smug, and flopped next to Steve, making the pages of the pad flutter. He smoothed the page down, mock irritated.

“Do I look like the kind of person to have a) purchased a dreamcatcher, b) have it hanging in the middle of the living area and c) since I suffer from a feather allergy… well, you work that last one out, Champ.”

Bucky’s lips thinned at the nickname, he hated Champ for some reason, hence why Steve called him that at least four times a week.

“Okay, you have a point,” Bucky responded and sat staring up at the innocuous hook while Steve hid his smile and looked back down at his sketch.

Nerves threatened to envelope Steve though, it was Christmas Eve and the next day he was putting his plan in motion, if he didn’t chicken out that was. His resolve was paper thin and even more so now that Bucky had been making inane guesses on what the hook could mean. He was clearly more than interested in what Steve was doing, he was almost obsessed trying to work it out, so much so that Steve knew if everything blew up in his face in the morning, it was going to be very awkward for a long time.

“Your guesses so far have all been subpar if you ask me.”

Bucky punched his bicep and Steve grunted, rubbing the spot, meeting Bucky’s grin with one of his own. He loved this about them, it was easy and natural and Bucky truly was his best friend. It would be so easy to see them living out their lives together as more though.

“Well it could have quite easily been a tennis ball on a string so we could whack it at each other, and I actually thought the Spiderman figurine hanging from a spiderweb was quite ingenious,”

Steve nodded his head in acquiesce, they weren't bad guesses, but they were far from correct. Although Spiderman was a cool idea.

“Yes, but you also guessed hanging a donut for an eating competition -”

“Still want to do that,” Bucky interrupted, and Steve gave him a look.

“And a hook that size was not going to hold a boxing bag, not unless it was for the cockroaches that live in the walls.”

“Bugs gotta work out too,” Bucky sassed back with a shrug, flicking the TV on. “Scrooged?”

“Let me make popcorn first.”

“Such a traditionalist.”

“You don’t want popcorn then?”

“Christ yes, I love that about you, traditions that keep my belly full are always a requirement.”

Steve’s heart tripped at the words jumbled together that effectively had Bucky declaring his love, even if Steve was twisting the words. He wanted their last night before the big gesture to be relaxed, so he made them spiked hot chocolate to go with the popcorn, and when he came back into the living room he stopped short.

“Did you make a nest?”

Bucky looked sheepish for a moment, “well it’s cold and it’s Christmas Eve and honestly don’t give me that look, you fucking love nests, so get in - can I smell tequila?”

Steve chuckled and handed over the hot chocolate, enjoying the look of utter rapture on Bucky’s face as he took a sip. Steve couldn’t help wonder if he could perhaps get Bucky to look so blissed out just using his hands and tongue.

“What was that?” Bucky asked and Steve had one second to die inside, he’d not said that out loud, surely not.

“The rum is bliss on my tongue.” He covered, and judging by the crook of Bucky’s lips, he’d failed miserably. _What an idiot._

“Seriously, the opening song of this movie takes me back to my childhood and I love Bobcat Goldthwait in it.” Bucky rambled as he slid into the pile of blankets and cushions he’d set up in front of the sofa as the movie started.

Steve followed him down onto the floor, impressed at how comfortable it was, and as they ate and drank and spoke lines along with the actors, laughing and joking and talking about Christmas days gone past, Steve had never felt more content and happy in his entire life. This was all he wanted for Christmas, the sense of belonging with someone, sharing time and memories; he would happily never accept another gift in his life if he could have this for the rest of his days.

Hours later as they were halfway through the next Christmas movie, Die Hard, Bucky’s head slipped down until it rested on Steve’s shoulder, the soft snores making Steve’s chest well in something stronger than his usual fondness. Not wanting to disturb Bucky too much, Steve slid them down until they were laying completely in the nest, cozy blankets up and cocooning around them, cushions lining their bodies and Steve was warm and satisfied with Bucky up against his side, head resting over his chest. And as Steve carded his fingers through Bucky’s shoulder length hair, knowing he was taking a few extra liberties, he reasoned it wasn’t like they’d never done it before, cuddling in their sleep on the sofa was almost a routine pastime and Steve cherished every single night it had happened. Bucky stirred a few times as Steve watched McClane walk over glass and create havoc in the NaKatomi Plaza, but Bucky only snuggled in closer, his thigh coming up and over Steve’s to engulf him in a full body hug, and Steve relaxed into the embrace.

As Steve’s eyes grew heavier, he found himself drifting, thoughts on the hook and his present no longer worrying him as he fell into a deep slumber, Bucky wrapped around him in sleep.

  
  


Steve awoke alone in the morning, the bedding next to him still warm, so he knew Bucky had only risen recently. Stretching his arms up, his back popped loudly from sleeping on the floor, and he gave a soft smile at the memory of having Bucky close to him all night. It was a rare occurrence, but each time it happened, Steve had a spring in his step for a few days after. 

As he snuggled down again, the scent of Bucky's shampoo lingering, he couldn't stop his gaze from falling on the small box sitting next to the wall under their _tree_ , innocent in it’s brightly covered wrapping complete with a red bow. Although what was inside had the power to bring Steve immense happiness or devastation, and his stomach clenched in worry.

Before he could jump up and run out of the apartment to hide for the day and not go through with his plan, he heard something.

Singing.

And it wasn’t just the sound that startled Steve enough to stop his desire to flee, it was the fact it was before seven in the morning and it was Bucky’s voice. Bucky was never up before ten, and was never conscious enough to be vocal. A grunt was downright conversational most days.

“ _Last Christmas…_ ”

“No,” Steve yelled and heard Bucky drop something with a curse.

“No what?” Bucky yelled back and once more Steve was almost speechless at how _awake_ Bucky sounded.

“You are _not_ singing that particular song, I’ve gone all month without hearing it, and I don’t need your cat scratch voice getting it stuck in my head.”

Bucky’s rumble of laughter was unexpected, but then the smell wafting from the kitchen hit Steve’s senses and his stomach rumbled. Loudly.

“Was that your stomach - Jesus Christ, I could hear that from in here, clear as day.”

“Hey, it’s a small place, you’re only about two yards away. Don’t stomach shame me.”

“I’m not…” Bucky sighed and Steve heard the hiss of a pan and then the scent of butter hit as Bucky popped out from around the doorframe, “I’m not even going to ask how many pancakes you want, I’ll just keep ’em coming until you’re full.”

“You don’t have enough batter,” Steve quipped, grinning up at Bucky whose eyes crinkled as he returned the smile, and Steve had never seen anything as stunningly gorgeous as the man before him. Bucky wore loose checked PJ pants, an apron and nothing else; his hair was a tangle and pulled messily into a tie at the base of his neck, and the fact Bucky was cooking Steve breakfast, hours before he was usually awake, was unheard of, but not only that - he was doing it with a smile and banter.

Maybe that twilight zone moment had occurred and Steve was living in a multiverse. 

Steve cleared up the bedding and put everything away as Bucky readied the table for breakfast, and by the time Steve had washed his face and brushed his teeth, there was a spread fit for a king laid out. Real Canadian maple syrup sat precariously on the edge of the plate of pancakes and there were sliced lemons and a bowl of sugar and of course Steve’s trusty jar of hazelnut spread.

“Best Christmas breakfast ever.” Steve stated as he sat down and tucked in.

Bucky watched him a moment, his lip quirking at the edge as Steve shoveled a rolled up pancake into his mouth. Steve wiped a dribble of syrup off his chin, feeling his cheeks heat.

“What?” he questioned around a large mouthful, knowing it came out muffled.

“Nothing,” Bucky shook his head, but his eyes were sparkling and Steve shrugged, digging back in. But then his eyes landed on the t-shirt Bucky had thrown on to cover up for breakfast, though he'd wanted to tell him not to bother, Bucky's chest was glorious.

"Is that mine?" He motioned towards the Art Attack t-shirt that was so threadbare he could see Bucky's left nipple. 

Gulping, Steve felt a spear of possessiveness rush through him and he shoved another full pancake in his mouth to stop from reaching out and tweaking the enticing soft pink skin, somehow more alluring through the fabric than when Bucky was shirtless not even ten minutes earlier.

"Oh right, yeah, I'll wash it and give it back later." Bucky's voice sounded strained, and Steve didn't know how to say that he should keep it, that he liked seeing Bucky in his clothes.

So he kept eating.

He needed all the energy and courage he could get, and the pancakes were helping him stay distracted.

But not for long.

“Present time!” Bucky exclaimed once they'd finished eating, whisking the dishes off the table, Steve wanting to ask for more pancakes even though he was seriously about to burst. There was no more stalling.

He followed Bucky over to the wall, heart hammering in his chest, mouth dry even though moments earlier it was salivating. He watched as Bucky looked up at the damn hook again, then back at Steve expectantly. It looked like he was going first.

_Fuck._

“Ok, so I… it’s… err…” Steve stumbled over his words, Bucky’s brow high on his face at the blathering going on, Steve inhaled deeply, letting the air escape out slowly. “Here, Buck - Merry Christmas.”

Steve passed over the small box with a crooked smile and Bucky reached out, fingers brushing his and there was a hesitancy about the moment, as if Bucky knew there was more going on than just the exchange of a gift.

“Thanks, Stevie. I’m sure I’ll love it,” he said quietly and started to unwrap the box.

When the present was completely open, Steve realised he could no longer breathe, air just wouldn’t enter his body, and he watched closely as Bucky pulled out the small sprig of mistletoe on a string. Bucky’s eyes immediately snapped to Steve’s, the grey-blue filled with surprise, but also something Steve couldn’t quite pinpoint. He hoped it was good though.

“Go on,” Steve’s voice cracked, and he coughed, “hang it up if you want to.”

Bucky didn’t say a word, but his eyes were wide and his movements jerky as he grabbed a chair and placed it under the hook, climbing up gingerly. Steve watched as Bucky slid the small loop in the string over the hook then stepped off the chair, turning to Steve, lips parted and Steve all but groaned when Bucky licked them, the pink skin shiny and enticing.

But he needed to make sure.

“Okay, I need you to move the chair a little to your left, then stand right there. Right under the mistletoe.”

Bucky’s chest visibly expanded as he took in a shaky breath, and it was only then that Steve really looked at him, took notice that Bucky seemed to be just as nervous, waiting for Steve to take the next step, to give an order. His eyes never left Steve's as he complied, moving the chair over, looking at him expectantly once he got into position.

“Now what?” Bucky asked, voice no more than a wisp of air and promise.

“Now…” Steve took one step forward, Bucky swaying towards him as Steve grasped his arms, holding him firm and in place. “Now, I’m going to kiss you. If that’s alright?”

The soft exhale and nod from Bucky all Steve needed before he leant in, and finally, after dreaming of the moment for years, Steve’s lips pressed gently against Bucky’s.

A small growl escaped Steve's throat as he gripped tighter on Bucky’s arms, unable to stop himself from pulling him closer, and Bucky, he just sank into Steve's space, complied beautifully. Steve soon wrapped Bucky up tightly, his knees almost buckling when Bucky’s arms wound around his back in response, hands exploring up the taut muscles until his fingers carded through the shorter strands of hair at Steve’s nape. It was intimate and perfect and he never wanted to stop kissing Bucky, not ever.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood under the small sprig of mistletoe, kissing each other, exploring with their tongues and lips, drawing small moans and noises from deep inside, testing what felt good. Steve was bursting, it was everything he’d hoped for and more.

But they needed air and Steve reluctantly pulled away, adoring the dazed look in Bucky’s eye and the puffiness of his lips from Steve attacking them over and over. And after only a second, Steve couldn’t help it and grasped Bucky again and dived back in, pushing his tongue deeply, taking everything he could, making the moment last, and the moan that erupted from Bucky’s body was vindicating, a salve, a sound he wanted to hear every day.

Three times Steve tried to pull away from Bucky, and he failed each and every time, unable to stop himself from pressing his lips against Bucky’s again, addicted already.

Bucky chuckled the fourth time, and put some space between them, and for a split second Steve went clammy, worried he’d pushed too far, too soon.

“That was -”

“Well overdue,” Bucky interrupted with a sigh, eyes searching Steve’s, “I’d hoped, but didn’t think you were interested in me that way.”

Steve let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a pained groan. “Buck, hiding it from you the last few years has been the bane of my existence.”

“Years…” Bucky echoed.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, and nodded, “I’ve been gone on you a long time Bucky Barnes.”

He suddenly had an armful of brunette as Bucky launched himself at Steve, claiming his mouth once more, and Steve let him take control, enjoying the enthusiasm and the charged moment.

“Same,” Bucky murmured against his mouth, and suddenly the kissing intensified as they realised their deeper feelings were reciprocated.

Gone were the sweet first kisses of exploring each other, as the hunger of finally not being denied took over. Tongues and teeth clashed as they tried to get closer, deeper in each other; raw instincts guiding their movements.

Steve couldn't stop his hand from wandering up under his old t-shirt Bucky wore, finding the enticing nipple he'd been mesmerised with not so long ago, pinching it and, _oh,_ he wasn't expecting that.

"Fucking hell, Buck, you're so responsive." 

Steve breathed heavily against Bucky's lips, tweaking hard again, and the whimper as Bucky puffed his chest out, asking for more without words, eyes rolling back in his head made Steve give a third pinch, "Oh sweetheart, I'm going to make you hurt in so many good ways. Then kiss it all better. Hmm, you like the sound of that?"

Bucky nodded beautifully, dazed and wondrous, and Steve surged forward, devouring his mouth again, leaving Bucky no room to move or breathe as he took what he wanted, thrilled beyond belief that he could do this, had permission now. He could touch, kiss, rub and… suck?

Steve ran his hand across the flat of Bucky's stomach, trailing kisses along his neck, nipping at the exposed skin and knowing in a million lifetimes he'd never get sick of hearing the small moans and whines erupting from Bucky's chest.

He grasped the bottom of the t-shirt and ripped it off over Bucky's head, leaving his chest exposed, and Steve didn't wait a second before latching onto the slightly reddened nipple from his earlier pinches, and bit lightly, flicking his tongue over the nub. Bucky suddenly became a live wire under Steve's mouth and hands.

"Oh fuck, yes… Steve… _Jesus…_ "

Steve smiled against the skin he was suckling, and proceeded to attack the other nipple, ensuring both received the same treatment, twisting one with his thumb and forefinger and biting the other. 

When they were suitably red and raw, Steve stood back admiring his handiwork, pleasure filled him at marking Bucky's chest up with his teeth and fingers, the skin angry and beautiful.

"So stunning, so gorgeous, Buck. You know that right? Can't wait to mark you up all over so everyone knows you're mine."

"Steve…" Bucky whispered, reverently, like Steve was offering him the world, and he was, he would - he'd offer Bucky everything he had including the clothes off his back if it would make him happy, keep him safe.

He leant back in and kissed Bucky thoroughly, sweetly, trailing his hand from shoulder tip to the top of his pajama pants and back again, Bucky's hardness obvious in the way he pulsed forward trying to get Steve's hand to move lower, where he wanted it most. And Steve, _Christ_ , he wanted to, desperately, he was harder than he'd ever been, but did Bucky want to take things further right then?

"Touch me Steve, I've waited too long, and pretending my hand is yours just isn't going to cut it anymore."

Steve inhaled sharply at Bucky's rasped confession, and didn't wait for a second invitation, his hand sliding under the loose band of Bucky's pants, hissing when he realised Bucky was naked underneath.

"Oh I like this, you're all ready for me…" Steve husked as he kissed Bucky with a ferociousness that surprised him. He wanted to climb into Bucky, nestle himself deep in his bones, never leave.

Bucky gasped as Steve wrapped his hand around his dick for the first time, testing the weight, the feel, the length, and Steve's mouth watered immediately, he wanted, _no_ , he needed to taste. Flicking his thumb over the head, feeling how wet Bucky was already, Bucky shuddered, so he did it again at the same time as he bit Bucky's lower lip, sucking it into his mouth.

"Steve…" Bucky sighed brokenly. _Fuck_ , Steve was going to love taking Bucky apart, Bucky was floating already with only a few twists and bites of his nipples. Steve suddenly understood the treasure he'd been gifted.

"I've got you sweetheart, you don't need to do anything, just feel good, that's all I want - for you to feel good."

"Feel fabulous…" Bucky murmured, and Steve gave a hard twist then tugged Bucky's dick, and Bucky jerked in his grip as Steve dropped to his knees, taking Bucky's pajama pants with him. "Stevie?"

Steve's eyes fluttered closed. God, kneeling before Bucky, having him utter _that_ personal nickname, his gorgeous dick, hard and twitching right in front of Steve's mouth. It was _everything_.

"Gonna suck you down now, need to taste you… can I?"

The 'yes' was barely more than a breath, but Steve had permission so flicked his tongue over the tip of Bucky's dick, tasting his sweet saltiness for the first time.

It was incredible.

Without waiting and no longer in the mood to tease, Steve swirled his tongue, taking Bucky's dick deep into his throat, humming and swallowing around him. Bucky's hands clamped each side of Steve's head, not guiding or asking for anything, just steadying himself, moving his feet further apart so he didn't fall. But Steve had him, had promised he did, and would never let Bucky fall - not if he could help it.

All too soon, Bucky's hips started to thrust, shallow and shaky at first, but as Steve's mouth wrapped around him, hand jerking at the same time, Bucky clearly lost himself to the sensations. Steve could feel the tautness in Bucky's thighs, the way Bucky was trying and failing to last.

Popping his mouth off Bucky's incredible dick, Steve continued to jerk him quickly, brutally, punching gasps from Bucky's chest.

"Want you to come in my mouth, baby, need to taste you, swallow you down."

And at the hooded stare, paired with the grip that tightened on Steve's head, Steve engulfed Bucky again, knowing he wasn't going to last. Relishing in the fact he was making Bucky come apart at the seams.

Only a few pumps later, Bucky's hips jerked and stuttered, and Steve opened his throat, swallowing the thick globs of come, ecstatic that he finally knew what Bucky tasted like in the most intimate of ways.

Almost immediately, Steve had to catch Bucky as his knees buckled, grabbing him around the upper thighs, holding him upright as the last of his orgasm shivered throughout him.

It took about ten minutes for Bucky to come back to himself and in that time Steve had placed them on the sofa, draping Bucky across his lap, carding fingers through his hair and Bucky languidly dozed with an expression of pure contentment plastered on his features. Steve had never felt more proud in his life.

Soon, grey-blue eyes opened and found Steve's already trained on him, Bucky looked sheepish for a moment and Steve could only smile indulgently in return.

"There you are. You feeling okay? Happy with the way everything went?"

The small chuckle made Steve grin as Bucky rubbed a hand over his eyes, “very happy, although I had no idea that mistletoe had such a double meaning."

Steve felt his face heat, "yeah, it escalated a little quickly there."

"About time though - years, Stevie? For years we could have been doing this. And don't think I've forgotten about you, I'm just catching my breath."

Steve's heartbeat started to ramp up, he was still hard, but not achingly, and he honestly would have been happy cuddling on the sofa for hours, basking in the change of their relationship, but he wasn't going to lie - the thought of Bucky touching him was making 'little Steve' very interested in the proceedings.

"What time is Becca's?" Steve asked.

"Not until four..." Bucky fell silent, the clear hesitation making Steve frown, "can I perhaps introduce you as my… well, as my boyfriend when we get there?"

Elation quick and swift hit Steve in the gut, the smile that burst onto his face bright and happy.

"I'd love nothing more, Buck. Except, you know - unwrapping _my_ Christmas gift that I see sitting over there."

Bucky twisted his head toward their makeshift tree that had lost a bauble, as tinsel fell into the ground, "Oh shit, my voucher for Bed Bath & Beyond is pretty lame right now…”

Grinning, Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him into a sitting position, but didn't let go, leaning forward to leave a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Not at all, I have a feeling I’m going to need some new sheets very soon. Want to come and watch me ruin mine?”

Bucky gulped and nodded, eyes darkening with want and desire, a look Steve would never tire of, “Christ, yes…”

Tugging his hand, they stood up, and Steve led Bucky towards his room, love, acceptance and relief that everything turned out alright filling him with each and every step. Steps towards their future, together.

It was officially the best Christmas ever.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
